Burnout, Iron Deficiency, and the Part of the Story I Was Missing

For a long time, I believed I was simply tired in the way adults are tired. The kind of tired that comes with work, children, responsibility, and getting older. I didn’t think something was wrong — I thought this was just life now.

But looking back, I can see how far from normal it really was.

I would wake up in the morning already exhausted, even after ten hours of sleep. I relied heavily on coffee just to get through the day, hoping each cup might finally do something. By late afternoon — still at work — the fatigue would hit hard. No amount of caffeine could touch it. My body felt heavy, my head foggy, I had hair loss and sometimes dizziness, and I was counting the minutes until I could go home.

I’d get through the evening routine with the kids, put them to bed, and then crash myself — far earlier than I wanted to. Evenings disappeared. There was no space for friends, no energy for hobbies, no exercise, no time for the basic life admin that quietly piles up when you’re always depleted. Everything became about getting through the day.

At some point, I started to accept this as my new normal.

I told myself it was my age. That it was life with kids and work. That maybe this was just how things would be from now on — permanently tired, permanently running on empty. What made it confusing was that I wasn’t neglecting myself. I wasn’t drinking excessively. I ate a healthy diet. I exercised when I could. I was doing all the things you’re supposed to do to “recover.”

And yet, nothing changed.

When people asked how I was, I said, “I’m fine.” Not because I was fine, but because explaining that level of exhaustion felt impossible. And because I didn’t want to hear the well-meaning responses: “Just take it easy,” or “It’ll get better when the kids are older.” I was already doing everything I could, and none of it was making a real difference.

There were moments that stayed with me. After returning to work, a colleague told me he wouldn’t bring me into his team because he assumed I’d just burn out again. Others seemed to think I was exaggerating how tired I was. That was hard to swallow — not just the fatigue itself, but the sense that it was becoming part of how I was seen.

Did I doubt myself? Yes and no. Part of me resigned myself to this being normal. But another part — quieter, persistent — kept wondering whether there was more to it. That’s why I kept reading, searching, and doing blood tests on my own. I didn’t have anyone guiding me through that process. I didn’t even know who could.

The real turning point came in an unexpected way: a Facebook group called The Iron Protocol. It sounds almost absurd now, but that group changed everything.

What I learned there was that the lower limits used for iron stores — ferritin — are often far too low to support good health. To feel well, ferritin typically needs to be around 50 µg/L or higher. Yet many lab ranges list anything above 20 µg/L as “normal.”

When I looked back at my own results, I was stunned. For five years, my ferritin had hovered between 20 and 30 µg/L — sometimes dropping even lower. No one had flagged it as a problem. In fact, it had likely worsened over time, partly due to endurance running and partly because I’d almost become vegetarian in an effort to improve my health.

Once I started appropriate treatment, the change was dramatic. Within about three months, my energy returned to what felt like normal. Not superhuman — just functional. Capable. Present.

And that’s when the anger hit.

I was angry that I’d been left unwell for so long. Angry about the years of unnecessary struggle. Angry about the time lost — time I could have spent feeling better, being more present with my children, living more fully. I hadn’t expected that grief, and I didn’t really know where to put it. It just felt deeply unfair.

Around that period, I had already left my job due to “burnout” and had retrained as a lifestyle coach and nutritionist. Food and health had always mattered deeply to me. But about six months ago, something clicked. I realised I could be the person I had needed — the one who helps women make sense of what’s happening when the burnout label doesn’t explain everything.

This wasn’t just my story. A close family member experienced something similar: severe iron deficiency, burnout leave, and eventually being pushed out of her job. I started seeing the same pattern again and again — women struggling, labelled, and left without real answers.

That’s what motivates me.

I don’t want women to stay stuck believing they’re broken, weak, or simply “not coping.” I don’t want exhaustion to quietly shrink lives while everyone assumes it’s inevitable. I believe there is often more going on — and that asking better questions sooner can change everything.

I used to believe my tiredness meant I was just getting older.
Now I believe it often signals an imbalance or dysregulation in the body.

If you’re reading this and you feel dismissed, I want you to know this: you’re not imagining it. There are people who can help. There is information out there. And you are allowed to keep asking questions — even the ones that feel obvious or “stupid.” No question is stupid when it comes to your health.

Keep advocating for yourself. You deserve answers.